


How come the world won't stop.

by Readingfanfics



Series: Practice Stories [52]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Brotherly Love, Established Relationship, Grief/Mourning, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-26
Updated: 2017-02-26
Packaged: 2018-09-25 08:24:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9811178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Readingfanfics/pseuds/Readingfanfics
Summary: After a great tragedy John offers comfort to his partner.





	

**Author's Note:**

> One for the Anastacia Album AU. 
> 
> Important! Mycroft Holmes has died in this story.  
> \--------------------------------------------

“Sherlock?”

 

John came into Sherlock's bedroom with a tray of tea and biscuits, his favourite ones. He nearly fell over a discarded piece of clothing as he placed the tray on Sherlock's desk. He went to the bed, a bunch of curls the only thing visible from this angle.

 

“Sherlock love, you need to eat and drink something for me now. It's been too long. You haven't eaten since the funeral. Please, love.”

 

John pulled the covers, reveailing revealing face, stricken with tears, his eyes red, his cheeks wet. John's heart broke at the sight of him and he crawled behind him, scooping him up in his arms as Sherlock silently sobbed.

 

John just waited, stroking Sherlock's hair, murmuring endearments in his ear, placing a soft kiss on his cheek. It was heartbreaking seeing Sherlock like this, broken and lost, not eating, barely sleeping.

 

He leaned his head to the headboard, closing his eyes for a second as the last few days played over in his mind. The phone call, the news report, the funeral. It had all gone by in a blur, Greg doing his best to get more information, Molly fighting like a lioness to get access to the files but it had been no use.

 

Mycroft Holmes was dead and nobody knew how or why.

 

Well, some knew of course, but they weren't telling them anything. Classified information as they called it. At least Mycroft had everything in order for when he died, they'd found a bunch of legal papers in his office, leaving everything of importance to Sherlock.

 

It meant nothing of course.

 

Sherlock was still shaking, trying to control his breathing as the last tears came out. He shifted, rolling over to face John, burying his head in his shoulder.

 

“Oh love.”

 

He squeezed him close, thanking the gods above that he still had Sherlock. It was selfish, he knew that, but it could have easily been Sherlock. It didn't make sense, Mycroft Holmes on a mission, doing his hated leg work. Why? What had been so important he had to take care of it himself?

 

He hadn't asked Sherlock, and Sherlock hadn't brought it up either. After the funeral they'd gone home, Sherlock taking of his suit and going to bed. He'd been there for the last 3 days, only getting out to go to the toilet or grab a quick shower.

 

John rubbed Sherlock's back, feeling the scars underneath his t shirt. After a while he moved, untangling Sherlock to bring the tea cup and a biscuit back to bed. Sherlock opened his eyes slowly, a frown on his face.

 

“C'mon love, for me. Please?”

 

John sat down, dumping the biscuit in the tea and feeding it to Sherlock. His heart swelled in relief as Sherlock eat it, pulling a face as he swallowed.

“I know love, but you have to try.”

 

Sherlock sighed but opened his mouth anyway. After the first biscuit was gone,John got up and took several more, immensely relieved when Sherlock didn't roll away from him but let himself be fed by John. One tiny bit at a time.

 

“That's all Sherlock. Thank you. Anything you need?”

 

John placed the empty cup on the night stand, waiting for Sherlock to speak. He'd barely said a handful of words since they'd got home and John missed his voice. It's weird what you can miss from a person.

 

“You.”

 

Sherlock reached out, pulling John close to him and John kicked off his shoes, pulling off his jumper before getting under the cover with Sherlock. Sherlock tangled himself around him, his legs around John's as he layed his head near John's heart.

 

“We need to find out what happened John. I-I need to know. Not k-knowing is.”

 

Sherlock sighed in frustration and John kissed his curls.

 

“I know Sherlock. I already talked to Greg and Molly, we'll come up with a plan. I promise.”

 

Sherlock nodded briefly and John pulled him closer. He'd missed touching Sherlock, having him close.

 

“I-I miss him John. I miss Mycroft.”

 

Sherlock started crying again and John felt tears of his own. For all the brothers claimed to not like each other, their love had been evident to everyone else. Over the years, after Moriarty, after Mary, they'd grown closer, finally able to talk to each other. That's why it had been such a shock to get the phone call. Sherlock hadn't known that Mycroft was back working in the field, nobody had.

 

“I know you do. Shhttt love, try to get some sleep. I'll be here when you wake up.”

 

John rubbed Sherlock's back gently, for what felt like a lifetime, till he heard Sherlock's breathing even out.

 

“We'll get to the bottom of this love, I promise you.”

 

John whispered near Sherlock's ear and Sherlock mumbled in his sleep, his arms and legs clinging tightly to John. John placed a kiss to Sherlock's curls, watching the day change to night as Sherlock slept in his arms.

 

It was the silence before the storm that was to come.

 

 

 


End file.
